Page 50 of Guilty as Sin

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, running his fingers through my hair, and I feel a rush of pride with his encouragement. He groans in satisfaction. When he hits my throat, my eyes start to water. “That’s it, baby. Deeper, as much as you can. Swallow it.”

It doesn’t seem physically possible, but I do my best. Choking a little, I manage to swallow the tip of his cock. My lips are still inches from his base, but it’s as far as I can go. I feel the muscles of my throat pulse around him as he groans. With his hands in my hair, he holds me there for a few seconds, his thick cock in my throat as I gag.

Then he lets me up, and I’m gasping, tears of effort flowing down my face. Brady cups one hand to my cheek as he gazes adoringly down at me. He brushes away a tear with his thumb.

“Good girl,” he says. “You’ve earned it. Stand up. Turn around.”

My pussy gets even wetter as I do as he commands. Sitting behind me, Brady glides one gentle hand along the bruise on my back. Then he’s gripping my hips, guiding me down toward his cock.

I feel the thick tip of him nudge at my entrance, then he’s stretching me open, sliding me down onto his shaft. I moan at the feel of him. I’m so full, too full, and he’s still pushing into me.

When I’m finally lowered all the way onto his base, I’m sweating and panting and moaning all at once. Brady holds me there, giving me time to adjust. But there’s no getting used to it, I feel like he’s up to my belly button.

He slides both of his arms around me, one hand up to my breasts and the other down to my clit. When he tilts his hips, I see stars.

Holding me to him, he works my nipples and my clit, expertly playing my body like an instrument only he knows. As he grinds his cock deep inside me, the feel of him rubbing against my G-spot becomes too much.

The built-up pressure inside of me bursts, rolling over me in waves. Brady doesn’t stop. He keeps pinching my nipples, rubbing my clit, grinding in my pussy until another orgasm crashes over me. I want to sob it’s so wonderful.

“I love it when you come on my cock,” he says in that low growl of his.

I don’t have the breath to say that I love it too, not while he’s still playing my body like this. He carries me through yet another orgasm before finally relenting and releasing his viselike hold on my chest.

Keeping his cock buried deep, he pushes my torso gently forward until I’m bent in a way that gives him access to new angles inside me.

“Hold onto the desk,” he tells me, and I do.

He lifts me by my hips as he stands up behind me. Then he starts thrusting. Brady made sure that I got my pleasure, three times over, and now he’s taking his.

He slams into my pussy as I hold tight to the desk. I thought my back might hurt with his thrusts, but it doesn’t, and all that exists is the feel of his thick cock pistoning inside me and⁠—

Smack.

Fuck. My husband spanking me is like pressing a button that makes me even wetter.

Smack, smack. I feel his fingers in my hair, gripping tight as he spanks and thrusts. I am completely at his mercy as he rides me.

“Cora,” he says, his voice hoarse, and I realize he’s at my mercy too.

I clench my pussy walls, pulsing them around his cock until he curses. Then he’s groaning loudly, almost roaring as he finishes.

I am powerful with the knowledge that I made him come like that.

When he slips out of me, he grabs me around my waist and pulls us both backward. We collapse in his chair, me on top of him, both recovering our breath. Brady continues to roam his hand over my breasts. It’s like he can’t get enough of me, and that thought makes me grin.

My pussy is so satisfied and sore I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk straight. As I half-sit, half-lie back on top of him, I feel his come seeping out of me onto the thigh of his pants.

“I have plenty of other suits,” he chuckles when I point this out.

“Yes, but they’re at the penthouse.”

“Some are. Others are here.” Brady points to the far bookshelf. “There’s a closet behind there. Bathroom too. Shower, everything.”

I laugh with incredulity as I let my head fall back on his shoulder.

“I suppose I should get cleaned up then,” I say, intrigued by anything that’s concealed behind a bookshelf.

Chapter 23